QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM THE RED SEA

Nia (Alice Da Luz) is a young and beautiful mother. She leaves her baby daughter Nana (played by Sanaya Andrade and Daílma Mendes, at different ages) behind as she emigrates to Europe in search of better opportunities. Her native Fogo (Portuguese for “fire”) has very little to offer her. The small volcanic island is home to a small community. Their lives.are mostly self-sufficient, and intimately connected to the land. Their interaction with the external world consists mostly of the occasional tourist (such as a mysterious Japanese poet). Not a particularly enticing prospect for an ambitious person with their life ahead of them.

Nana is left in good hands. She finds abundant nurture in the hands of her doting grandmother, and a vast network of mostly women. Nature offers these people spirituality and redemption. The landscape is breathtaking. Rocky mountains blend in seamlessly with black sandy beaches, and a towering volcano on the background. A gentle layer of fog adds a touch of mysticism. The cinematography is dark and yet gentle, with some exuberant images. The sand is black, the skin is black, the shadows are black. Perhaps black is the colour of hope. Nia returns roughly halfway through this 96-minute movie. She wants to reconnect with her daughter, now a beautiful, introspective and sensitive teenager.

This is a movie dotted with symbolisms, often associated with elements of nature. A melancholic Nana listens to the sounds of a seashell, perhaps the only way she can communicate with her mother. We are told that a broken vase put back together with gold is far more beautiful than the original. Can failed motherhood be glued back together? And if so, where can Nia and Nana find the gold required in order to meld their relationship? Turtles lay their eggs and leave. The babies have to fend for themselves without a mother – much like Nana. They often get trapped and killed by the fishnets laid by humans, in a hard-hitting reminder of the inevitability and also the dangers of migration. The volcanic island has a heart of lava: red, hot and capable of shocking destruction. The human heart too is capable of obliteration.

Music provides soothing and spiritual healing. Cape Verde is the home of morna. The mellifluous rhythm and an integral part of the small nation’s heritage. The Creole Portuguese spoken on the island is also very melodic, adding yet another gentle touch of lyricism to the story. A warm and breezy film experience. One that’s pleasant to watch, just never particularly hypnotic. The emotions may pass through you as quickly as the tropical winds that caress Fogo island.

Hanami is in the Main Competition of the 4th Red Sea International Film Festival.